


Way Leads on to Way

by Shaddyr



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Dominance, First Time, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney tries to run, but John has decided it's time for them to have a little talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way Leads on to Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mischief5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief5/gifts).



> This is a follow up to ["A Road Travelled, More or Less"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/213227), which was my entry for the [**sgareversebang**](http://sgareversebang.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Another one that's been sitting on the hard drive for a while – and being that it was the lovely [**mischief5**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mischief5/)'s birthday, I had a damn good a reason to get it finished! Hope you like it, m'dear!
> 
> The fabulous [**outsideth3box**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/outsideth3box/) picked the nits, pointed out the problems and listened to me whine and complain. She also kicked my ass when John started acting like an idiot and helped me get him back on the right track. You should all thank her for this. In case I have not made it abundantly clear, she's pretty fantastic.

After an endless barrage of tests, being poked and prodded in the infirmary, Rodney found little relief as he was forced to defend his actions at the briefing that followed. He spent several hours explaining and arguing himself out from under the ire of Weir. Once he had appeased Elizabeth with sufficient protestations of innocence and half-assed apologies, he and Radek explained what they'd learned about the AR machine and exploring alternate realities from their counterparts. Rodney was torn between intense gratitude and abject fear when she finally declared the debriefing over and ordered them all to get some rest. He was running on fumes, beyond tired, but every time John had looked at him, he'd felt his face go red and stumbled over his words, trying to focus and failing spectacularly. Thankfully, everyone else in the room had chalked it up to post-mission shock and/or adrenaline and pretty much ignored it.

Radek was still chatting with Elizabeth as Rodney powered down his laptop, surreptitiously glancing at John from under his eyelashes. He decided that retreating was a perfectly viable option, and waited until John was thoroughly engrossed in discussing foothold protocols with Lorne before trying to slip out of the briefing room. He hadn't quite made it out the door when John's head snapped over and caught his gaze, fixing him in place like a bug writhing on a pin.

"I'll catch up with you shortly, McKay," he said mildly, but Rodney could hear the undercurrent in his tone. Rodney swallowed, gave him a terse nod, and beat it out of there.

He was completely wrung out. It had been like waiting for the nanovirus to kill him all over again, that slow inexorable countdown to inevitable death while scrambling for answers to incomprehensible ancient tech, and then suddenly, everything had been okay. More than okay, actually.

He slowed his frantic pace and raised his fingers to his lips. The kiss had been unexpected. Despite what John had said to him while Rodney had been trapped in a flux state, he hadn't really thought John meant to do anything about it - he wasn't even sure that John honestly felt the same. And then the suicidal idiot had slapped on a piece of the same unpredictable technology that had gotten Rodney into trouble in the first place and just followed him in with no idea if he was going to be able to get either one of them back.

And kissed him.

But. What if it was just another calm-Rodney-down ploy? What if John had just been managing him, or worse, simply humouring him? Or, what if Rodney had just misinterpreted things, and taken it to mean something other than what John intended? He felt hysteria starting to rise, and Rodney could tell he was about five seconds from a panic attack. He ducked into the first transporter he could find, hitting a destination far away from the populated areas.

He emerged on the North side of the city. It was one of the higher towers that didn't have any labs or cool tech, just rooms and studio and living quarters. He'd staked out a hidey hole that he'd used from time to time back during those first few months on Atlantis. Sometimes, when things had been overwhelming, he'd needed to get away from his lab rats and from people in generally so he could think. And hide too, if truth be told. There was nothing wrong with hiding once in a while. And he was quite aware that he was hiding now.

"Not that John won't find me in a flat second if he wants to," he muttered as he walked down the dimly lit corridor and into the room he hadn't visited in over a year. All John had to do was ask, and Atlantis would probably show Rodney as a blinking red dot with a highlighted path providing directions with the shortest route to him.

Rodney sighed as he walked over to the desk, still cluttered with papers and a few pieces of Ancient tech he'd left there many months ago. His fingers brushed over a cylindrical object that he thought was a children's toy and it lit up at his touch, making a series of inquisitive sounds. He thought he should bring it back for John to play with and it made him smile in spite of the queasy feeling in his gut. He spared a glance at the rumpled bed, then slipped onto the sheltered balcony. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh and let himself slide down it, crossing his arms as he extended his legs in front of him. He knew he couldn't hide out forever, but he just needed a couple hours before he had to listen to John tell him that he'd read it all wrong.

He stared out over the water, squinting at the reflection of the early morning sunlight off the waves. It was no wonder his eyes felt gritty and he wasn't firing on all thrusters – he'd been up for damn near 26 hours straight. He let his head fall forward, closing his eyes against the glare. He just wanted to sit here for a little while, with the quiet stillness, the sound of the waves, the cool breeze -

"Rodney?"

He groaned and let his head fall back against the wall with a thunk. It looked like he wasn't even going to get those few hours.

"Over here," he said, resigned to his fate. Probably best to get it over with quickly, like pulling off a sticky bandage.

John stepped out onto the balcony and Rodney was surprised to note that he appeared a little -well, frantic- as he glanced around looking for him.

"Look down," he said, and John's eyes snapped over to him.

John put one hand on his hips, cocking his head to the side. "Why did you come out here?"

"To be alone," he said pointedly.

Rodney thought that he'd seen about every expression John had - a dozen different smug smiles, variations of irritation and anger, but he'd never seen the complicated transition of surprise/hurt/withdrawal before. John went stiff, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Fine then," he said, turning on heel. "I'll leave you to it."

"Wait!" he called, scrambling to his feet as John stalked away. "John, please!"

John stopped, back still to him, tension radiating from every pore. Rodney was suddenly stymied. He'd come here to stave off the inevitable rejection he'd expected from John. Instead, he was the one pushing John away, and John was acting like the jilted lover -

"I'm not very good at this," he blurted out. "Well, not very good at relationships in general, but you already know that," he said with a nervous, self-depreciating laugh. "It’s just, I mean, essentially I'm the one who came on to you, and that might have given the impression that I had some kind of experience, which, yes of course, I have some experience, but really, not much, only three guys I ever kissed and one that I, uhm, well, you know – "

"No, McKay, I don't know," John said mildly, arms crossed, cocking an eyebrow at Rodney. "Why don't you tell me?"

"We traded hand jobs," he replied, blushing furiously before turning away to pace across the room. "That's the grand extent of my experience with men," he confessed. "Anyway, I came here mostly because I didn't want to hear you say it was a mistake, because I thought it might have been, you know, heat of the moment, or some misguided attempt to make me feel better, or, I don't know, something other than-"

He stuttered to a halt as John suddenly moved in behind him, sliding an arm around his waist to pull him flush to his chest. John's fingers fisted in his hair, pulling his head back and holding him in place

"Sometimes, McKay," he growled, "You're a real idiot."

Before he could form a response, John's lips came crashing down on his. The kiss was possessive, as harsh as the earlier one had been sweet. John's tongue thrust in, hard and demanding, claiming Rodney's mouth. Heat shot through him and he moaned into the kiss, melting back against John, surrendering completely. He let one hand drop to rest on John's forearm, and lifted the other touch John's face.

John broke off his assault on Rodney's mouth, turning his head to drop a tender kiss in the palm of his hand. "So, about that talk," he said, giving Rodney a slow, lazy smile. "Let me make myself perfectly clear."

Rodney blinked in confusion and then threw his head back with a gasp as the hand at his waist dropped to cup his erection through his pants. His knees would have given out entirely if he hadn't been leaning against John. John took advantage of his reaction, diving in to leave a trail of hot, sucking kisses down his throat. Rodney was caught in a sea of sensation, the hand stroking him, the feel of John's cock hard against his ass, all leaving him reeling. John's mouth stopped at the join between neck and shoulder, biting down on the tender flesh, making Rodney hiss as he worried the skin with his teeth while sucking hard.

"Jesus! John," he panted, writhing under the onslaught. "Everyone will see," he protested even as he tilted his head farther over to allow him better access.

The hand still in his hair gave a little tug. "Don't care," John murmured into his skin. "You could have died, and I just – it doesn't matter." He resumed licking and nipping a path up Rodney's neck, moving high enough so that even the highest collar or turtleneck wouldn't have a chance of covering it.

Somehow John's clever fingers had managed to undo his pants as well, quickly slipping under the waistband of his boxers. He shuddered at the feel of John's hand curling around his cock, settling into a slow, smooth rhythm, thumb coming up to circle the tip and capture the bead of pre-come. Rodney watched as John lifted his hand to his mouth, and they locked eyes as John sucked the moisture off his thumb.

He made a strangled noise and John just smirked before kissing him again. He could taste himself as John's tongue fucked his mouth, and he moaned as John started jacking him off, just hard enough to be this side of painful yet so incredibly good. He was trembling, clutching at any part of John he could reach, torn between thrusting into his hand and grinding back against his cock while he sucked on John's tongue.

He felt his orgasm building, higher and higher and suddenly he tensed, crested the peak and crashed down the other side. He came, long and hard as John worked him, and he finally had to pull his mouth away to gasp, "Ahh, ah! Too much, too much!" John's touch gentled, finally releasing his spent cock to lift his sticky, come streaked hand to his lips.

Rodney felt a jolt of lust and despite coming harder than he had in recent history, his dick twitched as he watched John's tongue flick out to lick the back of his hand.

"Jesus, you're killing me," he groaned, unable to look away and John made a production of it, glancing at him under his eyelashes as he licked another swipe across his hand. "God, that's hot."

John bent in to kiss him again, his tongue spreading the bitter salt tang through Rodney's mouth while his hand settled back on Rodney's stomach, fingertips tracing patterns on his skin under his uniform shirt. After a moment, he tugged Rodney's head to the side and nibbled his way along his jaw line. There was only the sound of their breathing for a few minutes as he rested against John's chest while John continued to caress his stomach and nuzzle into his neck. Rodney finally felt steady enough on his feet to try and turn in John's embrace, but John held him fast. He struggled slightly.

"I want to touch you - please-"

"Shh," John hushed him. "Just let me have this, Rodney," he spoke quietly against Rodney's skin. "I need to have this, need you to just let me have you."

John let go of his hair, sliding his hand down Rodney's arm to grasp his wrist. He nudged Rodney forward a few steps to the wall, lifting Rodney's wrist and placed his hand flat against the hard surface. He pulled Rodney's hand from his face and dropped a kiss in his palm, then placed it on the wall as well.

"Don't move," John breathed into his ear, and Rodney felt a shudder travel through him as John ground up against him, his hands resting over Rodney's as he caught his earlobe with his teeth. He moaned as the kisses moved down his neck, punctuated by sharp flares of pain as John left a trail of bites and bruises to mark his path. John's hands slid up his arms, squeezing his biceps, over his shoulders before smoothing down his sides to catch the bottom of his shirt. He moved away from Rodney just long enough to pull the shirt up over his head, then left it dangling from Rodney's arms. He started to pull his hand from the wall to let the shirt drop, but John's hand came down hard on his, pinning it to the wall.

"Don't. Move," John said again, and that same dark quality he'd had earlier was back. Rodney swallowed and nodded.

John's hands moved back to Rodney's sides, running up and down the skin there, just hard enough to not tickle. After a moment John hooked his thumbs over the waistband of Rodney's pants, catching the boxers at the same time, and pushed them down his legs in one smooth motion. Rodney shivered, partly from the sudden exposure to the coolness of the room, but mostly under the awareness that John was the one doing this to him, stripping him bare, standing there behind him so close he could feel the heat radiating off his body. He desperately wanted to turn, but John's order to not move held him in place more effectively than any rope or cuff he'd ever been caught in off world.

He could feel goose bumps popping up on his skin, nervous sweat forming at his temples to trickle past his hairline and down the back of his neck, but more than that, he could feel the weight of John's eyes on him. "Please," the entreaty slipped past his lips without conscious volition. "Please," he whispered again unable to keep from squirming though he stayed in place.

"Shhh," John shushed him while deftly slipping off one then the other of Rodney's shoes and freeing him of his uniform pants. John's hands rested lightly on the outside of his thighs and he could feel John's breath on his lower back. He sighed when John's lips touched his skin, scattering soft kisses down his spine. John's hands slid up his legs, thumbs sliding over Rodney's ass and up along his crack and then gently pulled his cheeks apart.

He gasped as John's tongue swept over his hole. John shouldered his legs farther apart, then licked him again. Rodney rose up on his toes, his whole body shuddering at the sensations ripping through him, fingers curling against the hard wall. John's tongue was back, this time circling round and round, teasing the pucker of flesh. Rodney heard a strange, high pitched noise, and it took him a moment to realize that it was coming from him. John bit sharply at his right ass cheek and he jerked in reaction, the keening sound changing to a strangled scream. He started to pull away from the wall and twist around when John reached up and planted one arm in the middle of his back and forced him back around and holding him in place.

"Rodney," he growled, low deep and dangerous. "If I have to tell you to keep still again, I'm going to tie you down."

Rodney's heart hammered in his chest. That bite on his ass *hurt*, dammit! He was reasonably certain that if he continued to fight and protest, John would let him go, but at the same time, there was something about him like this - out of control, demanding, taking what he wanted – that was incredibly hot and appealing. Slowly he relented, settling his hands back against the wall, head hanging forward.

John's hand rubbed a soothing pattern over Rodney's back, gentling him until the tension finally leached away. Once he was relaxed, John brought his hand down, thumb slipping back in to pull Rodney's cheeks wide apart once more. This time, John's tongue was unyielding; swiping back and forth repeatedly until Rodney was panting in short, sharp breaths. His knees wobbled unsteadily, threatening to give out and he found himself pushing back against John's mouth then thrusting forward against empty air, craving something, anything rub his aching cock against. He considered taking himself in hand, but was afraid that John might decide that constituted a breach of his orders and make good on his threat to tie Rodney down.

John upped the ante, shoving his tongue in to breach the outer ring of muscle, thrusting repeatedly into Rodney, making him moan and shake helplessly. All he knew was the ache of his cock and the hot, wet thrust of John's tongue in his ass. "Oh god, GOD, John please, pleasepleasplease," he sobbed, and suddenly the overwhelming too good feeling was gone and John was there, plastered up against his back, teeth latched on to the back of his neck, hand around his cock.

"Yes, yes yes!" he hissed, thrusting into the hand wrapped around him. He felt John's hand between them, then suddenly, John's hard cock slipped between his ass cheeks. Rodney startled at feeling, a tendril of fear curling in his stomach. "John, I'm not – I can't – I'm not ready –"

"Shhh, It's okay, Rodney," John said, hand still working Rodney's cock as he spoke. "I know you're not ready for this," he continued, as he slowly thrust up against him. "I'm not going to fuck you up against a wall in an abandoned lab for your first time." Rodney could hear the distaste in his tone and felt himself relaxing under the reassurance. "I just want to feel your lush ass against my cock, is that okay?"

Rodney opened his mouth to reply, but John chose that moment to bite down on the already sensitized side of his neck and he gasped instead. "It'll be good though, when you're ready to let me fuck you," he went on, sending yet another bolt of heat through Rodney to settle in his groin.

John's own breathing was growing a little more erratic as he rubbed up against Rodney's ass, his cock happily nestled in the valley of Rodney's ass cheeks. "We'll do it some afternoon when we have all the time in the world," he said, speeding up the rhythm of his hand on Rodney's cock. "I'll lay you out on the bed, spread you open wide and rim you till you come," he promised, and Rodney couldn't hold back a moan.

"Yeah I know, it sounds good, doesn't it?" John slid one hand up Rodney's chest to pinch at his nipples.

"Oh, god!" Rodney cried out, bordering on frantic as the sensations built.

"When I'm done that, I'll get out the lube and prep you slow, one finger at a time, sliding them in and out until you're slick and smooth and loose, relaxed, blissed out and ready for me to sink my cock into that gorgeous ass of yours."

Rodney tried to imagine the hard cock that was sliding between his ass cheeks plunging into him over and over, and the image was hot enough to make him shudder.

"It'll start slow, easy, letting you get used to having me inside you, but then it'll change – there's nothing quite like having a big, hard cock up your ass, and once you've adjusted, I'll fuck you hard and steady, right through the mattress and into next week."

By this time they were both panting and frantic, and with one final stroke, Rodney came, painting the wall with stripes of white. He felt John's hips stutter erratically against him, then there was a burst of wet heat between his ass cheeks. John slumped against him and he collapsed against the wall, only John's body weight pinning him to the wall keeping him upright.

Rodney almost fell over when John stepped back, and a moment later he found himself being manhandled over to the bed.

"What, wait –" he started to protest, but John just pushed him down, nudging him over so he could stretch out beside him.

"Shh," John said, spooning up behind him. "You're dead on your feet," he said, throwing an arm over Rodney's waist and pulling him snug against him. "Sleep now, talk later," he ordered.

Rodney lay in John's arms, brain whirling madly, trying to process what had just happened. Him and John. John and him. Even in an alternate universe. Of all the possible roads, that he ended up on this one was just mind blowing. He was snapped out of his reverie by John pinching his ass.

"Ow!" Rodney complained, jerking away and glaring over his shoulder. John cracked one eye open and scowled.

"You are thinking too loud," he said dryly "Now shut it down and go to sleep. That's an order by the way."

Rodney just huffed in annoyance and settled back down on his pillow, but he felt a little thrill when John's grip grew just a little tighter. He was surprised by the huge yawn that snuck up on him from out of nowhere and decided that perhaps he could concede to a little sleep for now. It looked like there would be plenty of time for talk – and other things – in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the 3rd verse of Robert Frost's poem, "The Road Not Taken".
> 
> _And both that morning equally lay_  
>  In leaves no step had trodden black.  
> Oh, I kept the first for another day!  
> Yet knowing how way leads on to way,  
> I doubted if I should ever come back.


End file.
